


The Things I Can Count on to Keep Me Going Strong

by lizook12



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:58:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizook12/pseuds/lizook12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s been staring at the ceiling for over two hours now and nothing’s changing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things I Can Count on to Keep Me Going Strong

**Author's Note:**

> I warned you I'd be back with more warmth; enjoy! Many thanks to the lovely **NikkiCienna** for help with a plot point. 
> 
> Title from Dierks Bentley's _I Hold On_

Sighing, she flips the pillow, flexes her toes against the mattress.

It’s no use, she’s been staring at the ceiling for over two hours now and nothing’s changing.

Not the shadows shifting across the exposed beams or her partner passed out beside her. Not even the unsettling clanging of the ceiling fan.

If she’s being honest, it’s a big part of the problem. Sure, it’s beyond humid and she can’t quite slow her brain, stop remembering the way he’d proudly introduced her to investors hours ago, but it’s the click-click that keeps jarring her back awake.

At first it had just been the uneasy rhythm, the interruption of her usual routine, but then it had taken on a life of its own: thoughts of loose blades and the whole thing falling on their legs and—

Groaning, she presses her eyes shut, inhales slowly, before turning on her hip to face him.

His back is to her, arm curled under his pillow, steady breathing evident by the slight shift of his shoulders.

Corporate events and galas always seem to exhaust him more than the exceedingly adrenaline based aspects of their lives and—she shakes a stray bobby pin loose from her hair—she can’t really blame him.

It’s completely unfair though that she’s similarly spent yet still wide awake.

Exhaling roughly, she reaches across the little space between them, fingers outlining the bird tattoo on his shoulder.

Her touch is a whisper at first, lightly tracing the details on his skin. It melts into something... more... fairly quickly though.

Something of need and trust and security.

Because no matter how many times she’s seen them, pressed her lips to a tattoo or scar, there’s something incredibly intimate about it and she soon finds herself grazing her nails across the mark, cradling her knees behind his.  

“‘Licity, what’s going... Are you...” He shifts slightly on the bed, still half asleep as he pushes up on his elbow and reaches for the bedside drawer where he keeps the throwing stars.

Suppressing a laugh, she stretches across him, hand closing over his wrist to halt his movement.

“I’m fine. Well...”

“Well?” He relaxes back onto the mattress, eyebrow lifting in question.

“Well, if you consider insomnia and rampant fears that the fan is going to fall and kill us fine then yes, everything is great. Perfect. I might even get the new—”

“The ceiling fan is going to kill us?”

“It’s making this noise.” She pauses, waiting for the sound to become clear once more. “There, that! If it falls...”

He finally wakes the rest of the way up, eyes narrowing at the disbelief and panic coloring her voice.  

“Hey, it’s fine.” He reaches out, cupping her shoulder. “It does that on high sometimes; it’s not going anywhere. We can turn it off if you want though.”

“No...” She sighs, frustratedly kicking at the blankets. “Then I won’t be able to sleep because it’s so damn humid. It’s lose-lose.”

Laughing lowly, he angles his body completely towards hers. “I’m sure I could come with a few ways for us to cool off.”    

“Oh? Feeling a little overheated Mr. Queen?” She shoves at his shoulder, tilts her head towards him.

“Always.” Leaning forward, he nips at her jaw before shifting back to meet her amused gaze. “I can look at it tomorrow; maybe even squeeze in a workout from one of the beams at the same time.”

“Not unless you move the mats in from the spare bedroom. And really...” She scoots closer, legs tangling with his. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to hire people to fan us with giant leaves or something instead of attempting a do it yourself project? Especially one doomed to—”

“Doomed?” He smirks at the arch of her brow, the teasing in her eyes, contradicting the serious line of her mouth. “Whatever. I’m not letting anyone in the room with you wearing _that_ anyhow.”

She just rolls her eyes, breath hitching as his hand moves up her thigh. “Seriously? Your ratty old t-shirt is hardly something to get worked up over.”

“Mmm, I think I have evidence to the contrary.” Slipping his hand under the navy hem, he splays his fingers across the small of her back, pulls her even closer. “Now _I’m_ going to have trouble sleeping, which is fine...” His thumb draws an O across her skin. “I’ll make sure the fan doesn’t launch as surprise attack.”

Laughing, she presses a kiss to his chest, relaxes against him...

And falls asleep.


End file.
